Dazed and Confused
by LaueHime
Summary: Sam is concussed and Dean is experienced at TLC.


The sounds and noises blur into a constant ringing that fills his head. He's not sure what's going on but he'd recognize the scent of old leather even in his sleep. He can tell the purring rumble of the engine out from the idea that his brain's ability to comprehend his bearings has numbed considerably. The distorted image of wheels and leather seats tries to form into his tired mind. Only, it gets washed away like paint under water; leaving pale drips where a neat canvas should have been.

The dull lolling motion suddenly hardens and he's thrown around like a drifting log in the ocean. The waves swallow him whole and spit him right back, leaving him adrift and disoriented. His lids open of their own accord. Then, current threatens to overwhelm him. He's not aware that a gurgling croak escapes his lips but he suddenly feels anchored. Powerful fingers are wrapped tightly around his arm. He gets the fleeting idea that there will be bruises, but the image goes as soon as it came.

"Sam!" he finally hears over the static in his head. He knows that voice and there's a hint of worry in it. He forces himself to focus. It feels like he should be able to do it but he can't, which worsens the sickening feeling that's been gnawing at his guts.

"Whaaa." He wonders if it's his voice he just overheard.

"You okay?" he hears. That's definitely his brother's voice. It's straightforward and to the point but even through the haze in his mind, he can tell the hint of fear he hears in his brother's voice whenever the latter is scared or worried.

" 'm peachy," he slurs. This time he knows that the shaky voice he hears is his. Dean's snort follows.

"Just cut the crap and humor me for a sec, would ya?"

He can tell his brother doesn't like to use that patronizing tone on him but the worry is still leaking through like water between loose fingers. It forces a natural reflex-like reaction of seeking for security in his protective big brother.

"What happened," he finally asks after seeing the pleading look in his big brother's eyes.

"You tell me."

He frowns at the demand. It's the first time he actually notices that he has no idea where he's coming from. The only thing he's sure about is the pounding pain at the side of his head. His fingers absently ghost over the aching spot.

" Dunno…," he mumbles after seconds of trying to rack his brain for an answer that's escaping his reach every time he seems to get any closer to it.

"Try to, c'mon."

Dean sounds insistent and it confuses him.

"Just tell me already," he whines and realizes then how slurred he sounds. His stomach makes a double take and he suddenly feels uncomfortable. Dean keeps his eyes on the road, but his concern is obvious like the nose on his face.

"What do you remember?" Dean asks, taking quick sideways peeks to study him. He raises clammy fingers to the bridge of his nose and pinches it. His eyes close involuntarily in concentration. Images try to form into his head like an old projector tries to read the faded colors of an old film.

"Not…I…," he starts; stuttering out of worry. When memories fail to form, his heart starts to drum harder against his ribcage.

"Dean! Why can't I remember?"

His panic resonates loudly, even to his own ears. He sees how his brother's knuckles tighten around the wheel until they start to pale. The rumbling of the engine seems to echo around them and into the night as Dean pushes his feet down on the accelerator.

"That's because you're concussed, Sammy," Dean announces like he would, had he found a case for a hunt. He frowns. The words don't make sense to him and his brain refuses to knit this new information into the lot.

"Am not."

Dean faces him and his eyes seem to dare him to say otherwise. Somehow he doesn't like the idea of going against _big brother knows best_.

"Are too," Dean speaks with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He frowns at the familiar feeling of brotherly bickering. He stares into his brother's eyes. Somehow, the calm and security he finds there settles him back into a trusting smile.

Tidal waves arouse inside his body and turn his smile into a grimace. The feeling of impending disaster overwhelms him. The sound of the familiar affectionate nickname his brother gives him isn't sufficient to ease him back down.

Seconds appear like hours before the vehicle comes to a halt. He stumbles out just as his stomach convulses and his knees give out. He's on the ground heaving before he realizes what struck him. Through the acrid taste of bile and the burning ache of sickness, strong warm arms reach out to him.

"It's okay, Sammy. Let it all out," Dean coos into his ear while brushing damp bangs of hair away from his face. He unconsciously leans into the affectionate gesture.

When his stomach stops trying to run out of his chest and escape through his throat, he lets himself fall back into his brother. Dean keeps him close while he takes deep shuddering breaths. As his lungs settle in time with his stomach, he hears his brother's snort.

"Told you you were concussed."

He rolls his eyes and even that small motion hurts.

"Don't feel good, D…"

He closes his eyes and leans deeper into his brother's chest. He can feel it rise and fall in time with Dean's breathing.

"I know you don't. Let's get you back to the car. We're going home," Dean prompts as he starts to pull on his armpits in an attempt to get him up and moving. A grunt of pain escapes his lips before he can stop it.

"What happened?"

Dean bites back a sigh and guides him towards the passenger seat.

"Bashed that geeky brain of yours," his brother replies with a smile in his voice. He closes his eyes as the words die before they have time to meet each other and make sense of their common purpose in his recollection of the whole story.

Dean sees the absent look on his face and smiles. His brother seems to know something he doesn't and he wants to ask before he finds himself wondering what it was that he wanted to ask about.

"My head hurts."

He sees the sad smile on his big brother's face. "I know it does, kiddo. Just hold on a bit longer."

Dean's eyes are shimmering, but he doesn't get why. The Impala speeds and he watches the trees disappear past his window.

"Hey, Dean?" he starts. His brother turns to face him.

"Where're we going?"

Dean smiles again. His brother seems a little happier than before. "Home," Dean replies clearly and without hesitating.

He nods and yawns; his eyes filling with salty pearls of water. " 'k. Gonna sleep now… But when I get up can you tell me what' I miss? I can't seem to remember"

He actually hears Dean's smile before he sees it.

"Sure thing, kiddo. I'll tell you all about it when you wake up," Dean promises warmly. His brother's words fill him with a security that has always been theirs and theirs only. He closes his eyes and the outlines of the car start to spider into his imagination. He can't push away the feeling of home that is trying to wrap its way around the frontiers and make them whole, securing and warm. While he can't see it clearly, he can feel peace knit its inviting arms around him.

Whatever worry he had is gone; Dean is sitting next to him and whatever happens, he trusts that his brother will take care of it.

He's never felt safer, yet he still can't recall the reason why.


End file.
